Summer Madness
by Miastic
Summary: Their first official 'job' goes drastically wrong ... Shiro/Renji. Warnings: character death, coarse language, boyxboy kissing. Same Universe as 'Close Encounter' and 'Disorientation' but can stant alone.


**Title:** Summer Madness  
**Author:** Miastic  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** violence, character death, coarse language  
**Word Count:** 2,177  
**Prompt:** #05 a midsummer night  
**Pairings/Characters:** Shiro/Renji. Renji, Shuuhei, Shiro (Hichigo) and 'Jow' [winks  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters implicated in this fic, I am merely a pawn of a severely fucked up imagination and I would appreciate it if I'm not prosecuted for my guilty pleasures.  
**A/N:** This is written in the same Universe as 'Close Encounter' when Shiro was younger but it could probably stand on its own. Forgot to say this is a one-shot ... or well, it's part of a series of one-shots.

* * *

They never knew the impact this night would have on the rest of their lives. Blissfully oblivious, they were basking in the quiet before the storm. 

The quiet could've stretched out for a thousand miles. There was just nothing but this thick, comforting blanket of silence surrounding them. They didn't acknowledge the din of the busy city retaining every day life below them smudging the silence as the latter demanded too much of their attention. It wrapped around them as if creating a safe haven.

Shiro revelled in how relaxed he felt and as he turned towards his partner in crime, Renji, whose hair was billowing softly in the wind, and a genuine smile crept across his face. Small, but genuine. Renji reciprocated the gesture as he leaned, if possible, further into the tree supporting him as though he could melt straight through it. Their minds were anywhere but where they should be concentrating on right now - currently delving through the recess of memories that surrounded them from this very rooftop. Shiro could almost depict his and Renji's gleeful faces as they raced each other up to the spot they were sitting at, teasing and tagging each other. From the years gone by since then, it seemed impossible to ever be at that state of happiness ever again.

The silence never wavered in their moment, keeping their moods calm and postures relaxed. Closing his eyes, Shiro leaned his head against the rough bark, ignoring it digging into the back of his head uncomfortably, and let out an almost inaudible sigh. Renji glanced sideways at him without turning and a small smile toyed with his lips at the peaceful expression that danced across Shiro's face. They were content for the time being and Renji would grasp this moment for as long as it allowed.

Renji ran a hand languidly through Shiro's shock of white hair, tugging lightly and earning a warning look from him to which he grinned happily. Shiro grabbed the tugging hand and clasped their fingers together, smiling appreciatively at the other. It was a rare moment for them - they were never really the peaceful types at all - but it was nice for the time being. Renji leaned over, no words spoken, ran his lips softly along Shiro's cheek before he planted them on his lips.

Warmth surrounded them from the orange-tinted rays of sun that descended over the hill-top as it started it's disappearance behind the horizon. A perfect midsummer's night.

Time passed and the silence, inevitably, waned; the clock was ticking and it was time they got moving. Without a word, both 15 year old boys stood, hands separating reluctantly, and began their descent from the top of the hill, towards their destination as the silence before the storm evaporated with every step.

Inside the club the music reverberated deep into their cores and hung heavy in the air, almost weighing down on them. Shiro and Renji threaded their way through the throng of intoxicated, writhing bodies towards the bar, Renji chancing a cheeky slap to Shiro's ass, who in return whacked him on the shoulder. Renji grinned broadly. For what was about to be done, they needed all the help they could get and alcohol was top priority.

As Renji ordered, being the one who looked a lot older of the two, Shiro began his search, eyes beadily scanning the entire room until they landed triumphantly on their oblivious target.

"Gotcha," muttered Shiro as he happily received the pint Renji handed him and proceeded to tug him towards their target. Renji's eyes also landed on the blissfully ignorant man sitting with an extremely voluptuous woman, who he admired momentarily before they sat at a free table a couple down from the target's.

"So that's Shuuhei, huh?" said Shiro, discreetly running his eyes down the man's face. "Looks like a right bad-ass, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," said Renji, twisting his neck as he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. "Wonder where he got all those scars from? Looks nasty ... an' holy shit! Is that a 69 tattooed on his fuckin' face?!"

Shiro cracked an insane grin. "Interestin' guy fer our first assignment. Do ya think we'll be able t' handle him?"

Renji let loose a grin of his own measure. "Hey, it might be our first _official_ job but we sure as heck ain't novices at this sport!"

"Sport?" Shiro raised an eyebrow. Renji just shrugged dismissively. He looked at Shiro reproachfully as he noticed the wide smile spreading across his face slowly.

"What?"

"Just thinkin' we ain't tried that," said Shiro with a suggestive wiggle to his eyebrows.

Renji frowned in confusion. "Tried what?"

"Sixty-niner," said Shiro, stressing the words and laughing as a blush crept up Renji's cheeks. He flicked his eyes behind Renji to see Shuuhei standing and a serious expression crossed his face. "He's moving, let's go."

They downed the rest of their drinks and stood up, Renji still blushing slightly and Shiro grinned suggestively at him as they loosely followed Shuuhei who weaved through the dance floor until he disappeared behind a door at the far side. They exchanged a significant look, readying themselves, before quickly darting through it.

As the door shut slowly behind them, quieting the din of the nightclub somewhat, they caught a glimpse of black vanishing around the corner to their right and they quickly followed, hearing a door behind opened.

"Shit," whispered Shiro, frantically darting around the corner in fright of losing Shuuhei and opened the door himself. He staggered back, dazed, as a punch cracked his nose. "Fuck!"

"Shiro!" Renji yelled as he ran up behind the staggering form, gripping his arms to steady him. He looked up to see the fierce gaze of Shuuhei.

"Why the fuck're you's following me?" he said in a dangerous voice that put Renji on edge. A bad feeling was creeping around in his gut, as if this was almost set up. It couldn't be, could it?

Renji quickly side-stepped Shiro, still clutching his nose, and ran at Shuuhei, rage wildly displayed in his amber eyes and he shoved him backwards into the alleyway, immediately engaging him in a rough fight.

Shiro watched through his frown and wiped his bloody lips, smearing it all over his face. Shuuhei was a good fighter, that much was obvious, but Renji was better. Stronger.

"We're hear to ask you if you've reconsidered your resignation," said Shiro, folding his arms over his chest as he lazily stepped outside of the club and down the steps. The door slammed shut as Renji gave Shuuhei a mighty hard punch across the cheek, sending him crashing to the wet concrete.

Shuuhei groaned and spat blood onto the ground. "Fuck off."

"I'll take that as a no, then," said Shiro, sauntering past a panting but smug Renji as he pulled a knife out of his jacket. He grinned sickeningly as Shuuhei's eyes widened in horror and he dipped down so he was at the same level, gripping Shuuhei's black, spiky hair with his other hand. "I s'pose it's your own choice but you can't expect _him_ to respect that. You know the penalty."

Shuuhei's eyes glowed indignantly, words leaking with defiance. "Who the fuck're you anyway? You gotta be like, 16?"

"New addition to the team," said Shiro, flippantly, before another insane grin swept across his features. "15 actually."

He held the knife to Shuuhei's throat as he yanked his head up by his hair, Shuuhei grunting in fear. "You won't get away with this!"

"What're ya gonna do, like?" said Shiro, tongue lapping at his lips as he languidly dug the sharp edge into the soft, unmarred skin of Shuuhei's throat. He chuckled sickeningly. "Haunt me?"

"Fucking son of a - "

Just as Shiro was about to run the blade across the exposed flesh, Renji yelped from behind him, dashing his concentration. He turned, eyes imitating saucers as he caught sight of Renji with his hands restrained behind his back and a masked figure standing behind him, head to toe in black.

"The fuck .. ?!" Shiro cried out, fingers tightening on Shuuhei's hair, enticing a pained gasp from the man. His eyes widened even more as the man-in-black pulled out a gun and lightly placed it on Renji's temple, Renji's expression absolutely horror-struck.

In his moment of weakness, Shuuhei punched Shiro in the balls and kicked him to the side before leaping to his feet, a thin trickle of blood glistening at his throat.

"Piece of shit!" He yelled at Shiro. "Fucking amateurs, eh?"

The masked man grunted in acknowledgement, digging the gun further into Renji's temple. "Should we kill 'em?"

"Nah," said Shuuhei, pensively. "I don't think they're ready to die yet."

"Who is?" snorted Renji's captor. An evil laughter leaked through the mask. "This one's shittin' it!"

"Get the fuck off me!" Renji yelled, his voice laced with terror. He felt sick to the stomach as Shuuhei grinned at him.

"Let him go, 'Jow," said Shuuhei, amused. "Before he really does shit himself."

Renji was reluctantly released and he stumbled forward, eyes still wide and breath laboured.

"You fuckin' son of a bitch!" wheezed Shiro, having mostly gotten over the low blow as he charged into Shuuhei, knocking him to the ground where brought his blade down heavily on him. Shuuhei grabbed Shiro's wrist with a panicked expression, marvelling in the young boys strength as their hands shook in effort.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said a dangerous, gruff voice to their side. Shiro's strength faltered as he gazed up to see the gun pointing at him this time but relief soon washed over him as Renji threw himself bodily at the man, their bodies crashing to the ground, the gun landing a few metres away.

Shuuhei took one hand off the boy's wrist and grabbed his throat, squeezing with all his might as Shiro spluttered.

"Fuck ... you," he choked out, yanking himself out of Shuuhei's grip and falling backwards. Once Shiro was fully off him, Shuuhei sprang to his feet.

"'Jow! Quit messing around, we gotta get the fuck outta here," said Shuuhei, before turning on his heal and running towards the entrance of the alleyway.

"No ya fuckin' don't!" said Shiro, with vigour as he raised his knife up, wildly chasing after him, eyes blazing and teeth bared through the light drizzle.

Shiro was faster and he grinned breathlessly as he pulled the back of Shuuhei's jacket before the reached the entrance to the alleyway, whipping his blade around him and slashing it across his throat. Shuuhei crashed to his knees as the rain steadily grew heavier, hands rushing up to cradle his neck.

"That's what ya fuckin' get ya bastard!" shouted Shiro, still seething as adrenaline coursed through his veins from the kill.

"Shuuhei!" An enraged voice sounded from behind him and he whipped around to face the masked man who lunged at his gun and growled angrily. "An eye for an eye, fucker."

Shiro bolted towards Renji, desperately trying to push him out of the way of his assailant. Desperately trying to get there before that trigger was pulled. His eyes stretched wide as the masked man reached Renji before he did. He was still over 15 metres off. Fuck! He's never going to get there in time. He ran harder, feet pounding against concrete perforating his eardrums as he panted heavily.

Tears unconsciously streamed in his eyes as a gun was brandished before Renji's petrified expression by his masked foe. He shouted out to Renji, who turned his head, his movements jerky, and locked eyes with Shiro as the gun was pressed against his temple.

A distressed scream.

A gunshot.

Renji was suddenly falling, as if in slow motion, out of the arms of his murderer, eyes still wide but now glassy, and expression frozen. Frozen in time. Renji, his best friend, his lover; dead.

An utterly tortured and anguished cry resounded through the now otherwise silent alleyway in representation of Shiro's horror.

"No!" Shiro darted forward, tears subconsciously flowing in torrents down his cheeks. A sob escaped him. "Renji! We were just supposed to kill him, not - "

Another heavy sob broke off the harsh reality that would've been the remainder of the sentence. Blood was flowing heavily into Shiro's lap where he'd desperately tugged Renji onto. Although he didn't want to acknowledge it, the heat was rapidly leaving Renji, providing further evidence of his immobile state. He was dead.

That single statement swarmed his head until it throbbed and his throat and ribs hurt from sobbing so much.

Renji was dead.

He suddenly sprang up, Renji thrown haphazardly onto the cold concrete, eyes scouring the immediate area desperately for any trace of the masked man. A fire burned behind his eyes that had died out a few years before. A tormented wrath fuelled that fire with unbridled rage.

As more blood seeped from the gaping wounds on Renji's temples, Shiro swore to the death he'd avenge him.


End file.
